Chapter Thirty-One
Blade’s POV
The air inside the main garage was thick with the smell of exhaust and cheap coffee. It was barely an hour after Skyler had climbed out of my window, and the compound was already waking up. I stood near a tool bench, wiping a grease-stained rag over my knuckles, keeping my face a perfect, unreadable mask.
My body still ached from the wild, heavy pace we had set against the workbench hours ago, but my mind was completely focused on the high-stakes game I was playing.
“Hey, look at that. The golden boy is already hard at work.”
The mocking voice cut through the quiet hum of the garage. I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Marcus “Grip” Evans walked into my line of sight, a nasty, bitter smirk plastered across his face.
Grip was a full-patched
